Hooked on The Bager

Chapter One

As night fell, the cold moon hung high in the sky. The bright moonlight fell on the ancient castle on the edge of the city, casting a mysterious silver veil around it. Emily stood on the balcony, looking at the forest in the distance, and felt a chill rising from the bottom of her heart. Since moving to this castle, her life has become bizarre and mysterious.
The cold wind in October swept across her bare shoulders, bringing a shudder. Emily subconsciously wrapped her woolen shawl tightly around her, but she couldn't feel any warmth. This castle seems to be always cold, just like its mysterious owner Lucas Black, exuding an inaccessible atmosphere.
"Miss Emily," suddenly, a low voice sounded behind her, "You'll catch a cold if you're still outside so late."
She turned around and saw Lucas standing at the balcony door. The moonlight outlined his tall figure. He was wearing a dark silk shirt, and the collar vaguely revealed his strong chest. The amber eyes flickered strangely in the darkness, as if they could see through her soul.
"Mr. Black," Emily whispered, trying to hide the trembling in her voice, "I'm just admiring the moonlight."
Lucas took a step forward, but suddenly stopped. Emily noticed that his body stiffened instantly, and his nostrils fluttered slightly, as if he was sniffing something. His expression became solemn, and a glimmer of wildness flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed.
"Please go in," his voice was hoarser than usual, "It's not safe here."
Just then, a cold night breeze swept across the balcony, bringing a faint smell of rust. Emily saw that Lucas's fingers were almost pinched into the stone railing, and his knuckles were white. She couldn't help but take a step back, her heartbeat accelerated.
"I thought this castle was the safest place," she whispered, "after all, you are here."
Lucas let out an almost inaudible growl, "Some danger, Miss Emily, is much closer than you think." His eyes looked unusually sharp in the moonlight, "especially on a full moon night."
Suddenly, a wolf howl came from the distant forest, shrill and long. Emily was surprised to find that Lucas' pupils shrank in an instant and turned into vertical pupils like a beast, but the fleeting change made her wonder if it was just an illusion caused by the moonlight.
Just then, a cold breath passed by her from behind, accompanied by a chuckle. Emily turned around and saw only a dark shadow flashing in the corner of the balcony. When she looked back again, Lucas had come to her side, with a hand gently on her shoulder.
"I'll take you back to your room," he said, with an unquestionable commanding tone in his voice. Emily noticed that his palms were surprisingly hot, in sharp contrast to the chill of the castle.
Walking in the dark corridor of the castle, Emily could feel Lucas' presence, he walked behind her like a silent guardian. Moonlight poured in through the Gothic stained glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
"Good night, Miss Emily," Lucas whispered in front of her door, "Remember, no matter what sound you hear, don't leave the room tonight."
"Why?" Emily asked subconsciously.
Lucas was silent for a moment, his eyes looked deep and dangerous in the moonlight, "Because the moonlight tonight is too beautiful, it will always wake up something that shouldn't wake up."
When the door closed behind her, Emily leaned against the door, her heartbeat still alarmingly fast. She could hear Lucas's footsteps gradually fading away, but she seemed to hear the sound of wings flapping outside the window. She walked to the window and looked out through the glass.
In the moonlit courtyard, she saw a figure standing by the fountain. The man looked up at her window, and the moonlight illuminated his pale marble face - it was Draco, with a mysterious smile on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. When Emily blinked, his figure had disappeared, as if he had never appeared. Emily lay trembling on the bed, listening to the wolf howling outside the window. She knew that she had fallen into a world full of dangers, and this was just the beginning. On this moonlit night, her fate was closely linked to two mysterious and dangerous beings, and there was no turning back.

Chapter Two

In the dead of night, Emily lay in bed, the faces of Lucas and Draco appeared in her mind. She could not resist the deep attraction, but she also knew that she was caught in a dangerous vortex. She knew that the confrontation between the two men was a life-and-death hostility, and she was just a pawn in their war. A corner of her heart reminded her to escape, but the deeper desire pulled her to stay in this mysterious castle, looking forward to the unknown encounter.

        Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight knock on the window interrupted the silence. Emily opened her eyes, and the moonlight poured into the room through the curtains, making the corners of the room particularly dark. She sat up subconsciously, trembling slightly and walked to the window. When she opened the curtains, a figure was standing in front of her, cold and elegant.

        It was Draco.

        "Sorry, I scared you, Emily." His low voice was frivolous and indifferent, as if every word revealed his unfathomable darkness. His eyes were like two flames in the abyss, locking onto her with an irresistible force.

        "How... are you here?" Emily's heartbeat quickened, and her hands unconsciously clenched a corner of the curtain. She knew she should be scared at this moment, but Draco's unique charm made it hard for her to resist.

        Draco did not answer her question, but slowly approached, lowered his head and whispered in her ear: "You know why I'm here, Emily. You've never really been afraid of me, right?"

        The moment he approached, she smelled the cold breath on him, as if it came from the night a thousand years ago. Her breathing gradually became rapid, but she did not retreat, but was locked by his eyes, as if her soul was also attracted to him.

        "Draco... we can't do this." Her voice was weak, but she did not retreat at all, as if even she herself was struggling with contradictions.

        "You don't belong here at all, Emily. Staying here will only put you in deeper danger." Draco gently lifted her chin, with a smile on the corner of his cold mouth, that smile was both gentle and dangerous, "But if you want to know the real darkness, then come. I will take you to see everything."

        At this moment, the door was pushed open, and Lucas' figure appeared at the door like a shadow. His face was gloomy, and his eyes were burning with anger. It was his possessiveness and anger that he could not hide. He walked towards Draco step by step, his hands clenched, his muscles tensed, as if he was going to pounce on and tear the enemy in front of him in the next second.

        "Draco, let her go." Lucas' voice was low and threatening, like an enraged beast. It was the first time Emily saw him so out of control, his eyes were like a ball of unextinguishable fire, revealing uncontrollable anger and possessiveness.

        Draco smiled slightly, released Emily's chin, and looked at Lucas provocatively. "Don't you understand yet? She doesn't belong to you. The savagery of the wolf tribe is nothing but a bondage to her, and I can give her true freedom."

        "The 'freedom' you mentioned will only make her fall into darkness. You don't understand what true protection is." Lucas sneered, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. He slowly stepped forward, blocked Emily, and protected her behind him. That was his attitude as the wolf king, firm and unshakable.

        Emily was sandwiched between the two, feeling her heartbeat speed up, as if breathing became difficult. These two completely different forces intertwined and collided in front of her, making it impossible for her to decide which side to choose.

        Draco raised the corners of his mouth and slowly took a step back, his eyes still on Emily. "Emily, one day you will find that he can't satisfy the desire in your heart. And I am your true home."

        As soon as the voice fell, Draco's figure disappeared into the night, as if he had never appeared.

        Lucas looked at the empty room, his fists gradually loosened, but the anger and worry in his eyes remained. He turned around and looked at Emily softly, but his eyes still flashed with contradictions and forbearance.

        "Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, with a trace of undisguised concern in his voice.

        Emily nodded, but her heart was in turmoil and it was difficult to calm down. She knew that she had fallen too deep. She could not let go of these two men easily, nor could she easily resist them. A complex emotion surged in her heart, which was a dangerous and fatal attraction.

        "Lucas, I..." She wanted to say something, but lost her words when she met his eyes.

        "Don't get close to him." Lucas' voice was low, with a hint of pleading and warning, "I know you feel confused, but Draco is not what you think. He will only drag you into the darkness, and I won't let him hurt you."

        Emily just looked at him silently, and a touch of uncertainty gradually rose in her heart. She knew that this was not just a war, but a contest of feelings and desires. In this dangerous triangle relationship, she has gone too far and can never turn back.

Chapter Three

Emily stayed awake all night. The wind outside the window blew through the woods, making a low moan, as if the whole castle was whispering in her ear. She curled up in bed, recalling Draco's cold smile and Lucas's deep eyes. Two completely different attractions stirred in her heart, making her lost on the edge of danger and desire.

        When the sky was slightly bright, she made a decision. She had to figure out what she wanted, the wildness and protection of the wolf tribe, or the mystery and temptation of the vampire. She got up and walked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor, and came to the door of Lucas's study.

        The door of the study was slightly open, and a whisper came from inside. Emily stood outside the door and pricked up her ears to listen.

        "She is innocent, Lucas." A low and gentle female voice came from Lucas's sister, Leila. Emily had heard rumors about her. Leila was the wisest prophet in the wolf tribe and could always see fragments of the future.

        "I know, Leila." Lucas' voice was hoarse, as if he had struggled all night, "but I can't control myself, I can't suppress my desire for her. I'm afraid that if she stays with me, she will only be swallowed by my darkness."

        Emily's heart trembled, and she raised her hand to push open the door.

        "Lucas." Her voice was abrupt and firm in the silent room.

        The two turned around and saw her standing at the door with a hint of determination in her eyes. She walked slowly towards Lucas, looked up at him, with a hint of determination and inquiry in her eyes.

        "I know you protect me, but I'm not a fragile child." Her voice was calm and firm, "I need to know the truth. Why are you always so hesitant? And why is Draco so persistent in approaching me?"

        Lucas' expression froze for a moment, his eyes wandering on her face, as if he was weighing whether to tell her everything. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind.

        "Emily, the fate of our werewolves is usually determined at birth. The wolf tribe has a unique ability to perceive its partner. When we find that person, we will feel an attraction that cannot be ignored... and you are my destined partner." Lucas spoke in a low voice, with pain and desire flashing in his eyes.

        Emily's heartbeat accelerated, and thousands of emotions surged in her mind, both shocked and confused. She never thought that she would become his destined partner, and his possessiveness and protectiveness of her turned out to come from this ancient bond.

        She asked softly: "What about Draco? Why is he so obsessed with me?"

        Lucas's eyes became more gloomy, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "Draco's tribe never believed in fate. They prefer to dominate their own future. And he believes that as long as he possesses you, he can destroy me and the traditional beliefs of the wolf tribe. So, he is not sincere to you, but to weaken my power."

        Emily's heart suddenly tightened, and a hint of anger and loss surged in her eyes. However, she also felt a little unwilling, as if she was just a tool in this struggle, being fought over and torn by the two, and she had no right to control herself.

        "So, Lucas, are you sincere? Is it just fate for me?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and her eyes became cold.

        Lucas was stunned, as if he was hurt by her question. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Emily, I can't deny the existence of fate, but I can't ignore my feelings for you." He gently held her hand, his eyes full of affection and desire, "Whether it is fate or something else, I am willing to give up everything for you."

        Just then, a slight sound came from outside the window. Emily turned back suddenly and saw a pair of dark red eyes flashing outside the window, like a flame in the dark, and the familiar cold breath startled her heart.

        It was Draco.

        He stood outside the window, sneering at them, as if everything was under his control. He knocked on the window lightly, his voice cold and full of provocation: "I don't think it's possible to talk about 'betraying' everything here, Lucas. You can't protect her because she will eventually come to me."

        Lucas' eyes immediately became cold and dangerous. He stood in front of Emily, glared at Draco outside the window, and growled in a low voice: "Stay away from her, Draco. You can't force her to choose darkness."

        Draco smiled slightly, his eyes full of evil confidence. He raised his eyebrows at Emily, as if everything was under his control. "Dear Emily, you will find that the bright world cannot satisfy your desire. And darkness - is your destination." After he finished speaking, his figure instantly disappeared into the night.

        The room returned to silence, but the air was filled with tension and uneasiness. Emily looked at the empty darkness outside the window, feeling both fear and desire in her heart. She could no longer deny Draco's attraction to her, and the danger and mystery made her heart beat faster.

        Lucas noticed her hesitation, and a trace of pain and uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He gently held her hand and whispered, "Emily, don't get close to him. His darkness will devour you and make you lost in the endless night."

        She didn't respond, but just looked at him silently, her heart full of complicated emotions. She knew that she could no longer simply withdraw from the two of them. Her fate had been drawn into an uncontrollable vortex, and the only thing she could do was to follow her heart and touch the unknown darkness.

Chapter Four

As autumn deepened, the forest surrounding the castle donned a cloak of gold and crimson. Yet Emily felt none of the season's warmth. Since that night's revelation, her mind had been in constant turmoil, with Lucas's truth and Draco's temptation intertwining like two serpents in her thoughts, leaving her breathless.

        That evening, Emily found herself alone in the castle's library, searching through ancient tomes for any mention of werewolves and vampires. As she focused on a yellowed manuscript, the air suddenly turned cold. Looking up, she found Draco standing across from her, his appearance as silent as shadow.

        "Seeking truth, my dear Emily?" Draco leaned elegantly against the bookshelf, wearing a deep purple silk shirt that made his skin appear even paler. "But you know, written accounts are often one-sided."

        Emily instinctively stepped back. "Why do you always appear like this? It's unsettling."

        Draco chuckled softly, moving toward her with fluid grace. "Because I enjoy seeing you startled. It makes you even more enticing." His fingers traced her cheek, the cold touch making her shiver. "Lucas told you I'm merely using you, but did he mention that his fate is actually a chain binding him?"

        Emily froze. "What do you mean?"

        "The werewolves' so-called destined mates are nothing but constraints in their bloodline," Draco's voice carried a hypnotic power. "They're forced to love someone, forced to protect them. Isn't that tragic? While I..." his gaze deepened, "I choose you because I'm truly drawn to you."

        A low growl suddenly echoed from the doorway. Lucas stood there, his eyes now golden, filled with rage. "Step away from her, Draco!" His voice carried an unmistakable threat.

        Instead of retreating, Draco pulled Emily closer. "Why so angry, Lucas? Is it because I spoke the truth, or because you fear she might choose me?"

        The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut. Emily could feel the energy between the two men threatening to tear the room apart. Lucas's body trembled as he fought to control the beast within.

        "Enough!" Emily suddenly shouted, "What am I to both of you? Some trophy to be won?" Her voice carried both anger and hurt.

        Both men froze. Pain flashed across Lucas's eyes, while Draco's expression turned contemplative.

        Emily pushed away from Draco and walked toward the door, but paused beside Lucas. "You say I'm your destiny, but have you considered my feelings?" Her voice was soft but accusatory. "And you, Draco, if you truly cared for me, you wouldn't use me as a weapon against him."

        She hurried from the library, and only when she reached the corridor did her tears finally fall. She didn't know whom to trust - Lucas, chosen by fate, or Draco, who chose her himself? More importantly, she began to question whether she truly understood her own heart.

        As night fell, Emily stood on her balcony. Wolves howled in the distant forest, while somewhere in the castle, she thought she heard the flutter of bat wings. Everything reminded her that she stood at the crossroads between two worlds, and she had to make a choice.

        Then she noticed items on the balcony railing: a rose as black as night with a blood-red sheen - Draco's mark. Beside it lay a wolf fang necklace, a werewolf protection charm, obviously left by Lucas.

        Emily gently touched both items, her internal conflict growing stronger. She knew that choosing either would alter her destiny forever. But more importantly, she needed to understand what her heart truly desired.

        As moonlight bathed the castle grounds, Emily realized that her decision wouldn't just be about choosing between two men - it was about choosing what kind of life she wanted, and more importantly, who she wanted to become.

Chapter Five

The following days in the castle were filled with an unbearable tension. Emily found herself constantly caught between shadows and silence, between warmth and cold. Every corner seemed to hold either Lucas's protective presence or Draco's seductive whispers. The weight of their attention was becoming increasingly suffocating.

        One particularly cold morning, Emily discovered a mysterious leather-bound book in the library's restricted section. Its pages contained ancient prophecies about the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires. As she read, her hands trembling, she found something that made her blood run cold.

        'When the moon bleeds red and the night grows teeth, a choice will be made that breaks the ancient cycle. A mortal's heart shall tip the balance, bringing either eternal darkness or salvation to both races.'

        "Interesting reading material," Leila's voice suddenly came from behind. Lucas's sister moved like a ghost, her silver eyes holding centuries of wisdom. "I've been waiting for you to find this."

        Emily closed the book carefully. "Is this... about me?"

        Leila's expression remained enigmatic. "The prophecy speaks of a mortal who stands between our worlds. But prophecies, dear Emily, are like rivers - they show the destination, but the path taken is always your choice."

        "What happens if I choose wrong?" Emily's voice wavered.

        "There is no wrong choice, only consequences," Leila replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But I must warn you - the blood moon approaches, and with it, a moment of truth that will change everything."

        Before Emily could ask more questions, a commotion erupted from the castle grounds. They rushed to the window to see Lucas and Draco facing each other in the courtyard, their postures tense with barely contained violence.

        "You've crossed the line, Draco," Lucas's voice carried up to them, filled with fury. "You dare to mark our territory?"

        Draco's laugh was cold and mocking. "Territory? This stopped being about territory the moment she arrived. Or are you afraid she's already choosing me?"

        Emily watched in horror as Lucas's form began to shift, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. The morning sun caught his golden eyes, now burning with primal rage. Draco's own transformation was more subtle - his pale skin taking on an otherworldly sheen, his movements becoming impossibly fluid.

        "Stop!" Emily's voice rang out across the courtyard. Both men froze, their attention snapping to her window. "This has to end!"

        She turned to rush downstairs, but Leila caught her arm. "Be careful, Emily. The blood moon is three days away. Under its light, both races lose control of their darker natures. And you..." she paused meaningfully, "you will be at your most vulnerable."

        When Emily reached the courtyard, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lucas immediately moved to her side, his protective instinct evident in every motion. But it was Draco who spoke first.

        "My apologies for the disturbance, dear Emily," his voice was silk over steel. "But perhaps it's time you understood the full scope of what you're involved in." He pulled an ancient medallion from his coat. "This belongs to your grandmother. She wasn't just any woman - she was a guardian, keeper of the balance between our races."

        Emily's world tilted. "My grandmother? But she died when I was young..."

        "She was murdered," Lucas cut in, his voice heavy with old pain. "By those who wanted to destroy the peace between our kinds. And now, as her descendant, you inherit her role - and her enemies."

        The revelation hit Emily like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made more sense - the mysterious circumstances that led her to the castle, both men's intense interest in her, the prophecy. She wasn't just caught between two supernatural beings; she was part of an ancient legacy.

        "The blood moon comes," Draco said softly, his eyes locked on Emily. "And with it, powers long dormant will awaken. You'll need to choose not just between us, Emily, but between two paths for both our races."

        As if in response to his words, clouds gathered overhead, casting strange shadows across the courtyard. Emily felt something stir within her, something old and powerful, like a sleeping giant finally beginning to wake.

        Lucas moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill air. "Whatever you choose, Emily, know that my protection isn't just about fate or duty anymore. It's about-"

        But before he could finish, a piercing scream cut through the air. All three turned to see Leila collapsed at the castle entrance, her silver eyes wide with terror as she pointed at the sky.

        "It's coming," she gasped. "The blood moon... it's coming early. And with it, they're returning - the ones who killed your grandmother. They're coming for Emily."

        In that moment, as Emily looked between Lucas and Draco, she realized that her choice might not be about love at all - it might be about survival.

Prolog

Prolog

WHISKEY

"Det er nok!" Min far smækker med hammeren, og alle i kirken tier stille og giver ham deres opmærksomhed. "Næste punkt på dagsordenen. Jeg har drøftet dette med de officielle ledere, og det er på tide at bringe det til afstemning i klubben."

H*vad utaNleZrz hAayn dom?r JkeBgk bemærkeLrl YhuBrqtiTgdt,z até Qhahnjs opmgærgksYotmhte)d Per he&l_th ,rBeItHtRet $mond^ mZiwgc. Jeg* gsiddzeJr 'i d)enO Afjern'esftUe& éentde HaPf bQoDrdeMt,, Sh(elntD pGå Jden xaMnsdeqng wsidwe ValfH lkomkCalGeYt, men YhaAnNs 'lawserfoRkuhs hXair mÉigl fHastwlåMs_tJ ftilY minC ap.ladsB.A

"Jeg anmoder Mountain om at give sit præsidentmærke videre til Whiskey!" Jeg hører det komme fra min onkel Brick, der sidder til højre for mig, og jeg er lamslået.

"Jeg er enig," siger en anden officer, Bear.

Jeg kan ikke tro, hvad jeg hører. Præsident? De vil have mig til at blive klubbens næste præsident? Men hvorfor? Jeg kan mærke, hvordan min krop reagerer på ordene, før min hjerne er helt engageret. Jeg lænede mig tilbage i min stol, men jeg sætter mig mere oprejst, og mit bryst puster sig op som en stolt påfugl.

"NHvlorfozr, nuQ?r" uDReét Rezr mno*k dyu_mmtY CaótB Bsp!ørgKe, $mSen sAoDmD ^sagt ear mRiFnó UhjerYne_ ^ibk,ke (hGoÉppvetl medQ pbå ivo,gnneBn GenTdnpu. ^

Det får min far til at svare. "Fordi jeg ikke kan køre. Terapeuten siger, at det måske en dag, men ikke lige foreløbig. Det betyder, at jeg ikke kan være en ordentlig leder. Nu er det din tur til at træde frem. Du har forberedt dig på dette hele dit liv."

De sidste par måneder har været hårde for ham, men jeg havde ikke set dette komme. Jeg troede, han ville blive præsident indtil den dag, hvor jeg måtte lægge ham seks fødder under jorden. Men hvis det er det, han vil, må jeg tage mine store drengebukser på og tage ham på ordet. Han er måske min far, men han er også klubbens leder, og hvis han siger, at han er klar til at give sin plads videre, må jeg acceptere det.

"Jeg vil ikke lyve og sige, at jeg ikke tøver, men jeg vil gøre dig og klubben stolt." Shit, men hvad med Steel? "Vent. . hvad med Steel? Han er vicepræsident."

Han l,æne)rq nsgigH ifreamvad !mved( hæbndern$e) fojljdet^ Xpå bord.eZtv, øjnneneF satQadig l*åÉs!tr péå Qm'iUg.ó !"SDXesré e(ró liLdMt opveQrI Vetc AårG tdilNbaLge atf Vhcatnqs sLtr$azfé. gHaPn rPihngeXdke i gXårJ,p ofg' jqefgk itnforMmerved^ef qham. YHan. efr indftorsptåeÉt! (mUed.,T shvaadu end vOi_ beRsdlBututZeAr. Så vi$ sWtekmzmeVrH.* AIllée, deBrd *er FfóodrJ,& skiigVerO z'fj!a'J." u

Okay, det er vel svaret på det.

Bear rejser sig fra sin stol og starter afstemningerne. "Ja."

Brick dukker op fra sin venstre side. "Aye."

HvHer geénueste YaSf miRne dbsrøÉdrVe rOeOjMse)r sMigm oOp hog msisger "SjMaB"I.. Daet! glimg*nYeCr lCi!dJtF pdfen Vbø*lOge, mWabnZ fsCerI )fYolk qlavYe nveGd spor!tPsObneBgSiveTnhednerH. NEn BpeJr^sVon rejseru siBg^ AopQ, Is^åé pMerWsonenr dvleQda dsmideBn aXf og ps$å DvidZejre,J ind)tilC nalsleu yeArX hopJpHev Bpå beInepnae.O dAllew unódtjageén$ cmgigÉ,^ al)tFså.Y PMi&nw rFøgv sidder fgalst i CmtiwnK stolF.n J.eWgO gkvaXn teknisk scevtH iiYkkfer styemmIe apå mWigV sxeqlv, mm.enF tjweqg er s!tadixg TfYarsÉtfJrosNs(etC iQ Lmin sto$lc.' H

Pops rejser sig fra sin stol og lader sin klipning glide af skuldrene. Han lægger den på bordet og rækker sin højre hånd frem. Jeg ser Butch tage sin lommekniv ud af bæltet og give den til ham. Pops åbner kniven og skærer med næsten kirurgisk præcision det rektangulære "President"-mærke af forsiden af hans snit.

Den plet har siddet på hans snit i lidt over tredive år. Længere end jeg har været i live.

Da alle trådene er skåret over, rækker han kniven tilbage og ser på mig igen. "Kom her, min dreng."

Deqt jfsår miÉn. ,røvm tfiulH $at bMevægCen jsig. cJBeg yre'js^eWr _mCiQgQ owp, uog gxålri MruTndjtX Aom lvlen^sNtkre svirdDe ZakfP .boLrdxeBt,K Osóå& jseMg ss^tAåGr$ &fdoraPn maign far kog hbeJle _kFl(ubLbyen.K HpaTn) jrHækker Ns,i_nZ Fhuøjrue hMå(nkd' GuJdK,B Zog jezg( ÉrSækJker ubd ieftDePrm zdeéns io.gy WrPyster hanfs ghåjnmd. q

Jeg havde ikke lagt mærke til, at han havde plasteret i hånden, men da vi ryster, mærker jeg materialet klemt mellem vores håndflader. Han trækker mig ind i et knus og klemmer mig hårdt. Krammer har altid været en normal begivenhed i min familie, men det her føles anderledes. En overdragelse af faklen, om man vil.

Han slår mig en gang på ryggen og trækker sig så tilbage for at se mig lige i øjnene. "Aye." Det er den sidste stemme, jeg havde brug for, og han gav den højt og stolt.

"Så er det officielt," råber Bear. Jeg ser ham række fremad, gribe hammeren og smække den på bordet. "Fra denne dag og frem til sin tid er Whiskey præsident for Rebel Vipers MC."

Ho^ld dmad kæRft, f&or KhGelzv(epdec.L Je$g Xer p$rZæsidCent fMoOr pRMetbXejlP !VipeLrSsd MC.

Inden jeg når at sige noget, bliver jeg angrebet. "Hell yea!" Jeg ved straks, hvem det er. Hammer, min bedste ven og andengenerationsmedlem, omfavner mig bagfra og løfter mig helt op af jorden. Han slår os næsten begge to ned på jorden, men jeg vrider mig fri og vender mig om for at give ham et knus tilbage.

Jeg står ved døren til kirkerummet, og da alle går ud, bliver jeg bombarderet med råd, håndtryk og kram, og alle lykønsker mig med min nye titel.

Den sidste i køen er Hammer. Han smider en arm om mig og trækker mig ud i hovedrummet. "Tid til at feste og få dig i seng," griner han.

Jeg MhJayr' mZinw *arm bom )h'ans sdkFu!l,deér, sgå 'j,eUgY xtrYæVkker^ hJaJn&s hoveadI lnjekdr ogW gyiv,er hahmj re)nK mnohoTgie*. "PFuNck! Ayqexa$!W"

Første opgave som præsident - at blive skidefuld og få sex, men ikke nødvendigvis i den rækkefølge. Tid til at få gang i festen.

Kapitel 1

Kapitel et

Whiskey

Der er ingen bedre følelse i denne verden end brølet og rumlen fra min Harley. Det er lige så let at køre på hende som at trække vejret. Jeg lever for, når jeg kan cruise rundt på landevejene i baglandet, hvor jeg ikke har noget sted, jeg egentlig behøver at være, og hvor det eneste, der betyder noget, er mig, min motorcykel, vinden og vejen under dækkene. Det er den bedste følelse i verden for en fyr som mig. Men jeg må indrømme, at det sted, hvor jeg er lige nu, er meget tæt på det andet.

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Sommeren er på vej ud, og morgenerne har nu det skarpe bid af kølig luft. Slutningen af september er en sjov tid på året i Wisconsin. Man kan vågne op med frost på jorden, svede nosserne af inden middagstid og være tilbage til at have hat og handsker på efter mørkets frembrud. Moder Natur i Midtvesten er seriøst bipolar. Den ene uge er der solskin og 85 grader, og den næste uge er der 50 grader og regn i fem dage i træk.

En god ting ved at være oppe før alle andre er, at der ikke kommer høje og modbydelige lyde fra alle steder. Der er ikke mange tidspunkter eller steder i dette klubhus, hvor der ikke er en eller anden form for støj. Jeg elsker mine brødre højt og helligt, men nogle gange ved de ikke, hvordan eller hvornår de skal holde deres kæft. Det eneste, jeg hører, er fugle, der kvidrer, vinden, der blæser gennem træerne, og af og til et egern, der raslede fra skoven omkring området.

Knæk. Jeg har måske talt for tidligt.

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Han ruller hen over betonterrassen og stopper ved siden af mig. Jeg prøver at ignorere ham, men jeg ved, at han er for stædig til at lade mig være i fred. Han drejer rundt og vender sig mod den åbne gårdsplads og tænder en cigar. Jeg hader de forbandede tingester. Det er som om, at det ikke var nok for ham at dø næsten én gang, han er nødt til at blive ved med at prøve, indtil det sker på hans betingelser. Tilsyneladende får det at være tæt på at dø i en motorcykelulykke en til at opsamle frygtelige vaner. Det eneste, der kan få Mountain til at falde ned, er et jordskælv. Det er godt, at vi ikke får dem så tit her i Wisconsin.

"Hvad laver du så tidligt oppe, sønnike?" spørger han til sidst.

"Jeg kunne spørge dig om det samme, far," siger jeg.

"DSen kduzmHmleu ,mrediFci_n gørc, Qat jetg bskal ti!ssCey hDele^ tfid(enÉ,"j VgÉrytnXteNrt hanZ,d pmensf haRnZ tacgerZ SendBnXuV )eNtU p(u!s!t.) '

"Hvordan håndterer Blue dig? Den kvinde er en skide helgen. Eller måske er hun sindssyg for at have haft med din stædige røv at gøre i de sidste tyve år." Hun er virkelig en helgen, men lad dig ikke narre af det - når Blue bliver ophidset, er hun som et jordskælv i menneskelig form. Måske får vi dem her oftere, end jeg troede. De er skabt for hinanden.

"Hun sover stadig. Den kvinde kan sove gennem en tornado. Og lad være med at tale om hende på den måde. Husk, hun er også næsten halvt dit blod."

Hvor tosset det end lyder, så har han fuldstændig ret. Min fars kone, og Old Lady, er faktisk min tante af blod. Et par år efter at min lortemor gik af og fik sig selv dræbt, dukkede hendes lillesøster op i klubhuset for at lede efter hende. Far faldt pladask for Lana og gjorde hende hurtigt til sin. Han gav hende navnet Blue på grund af hendes øjne. Det er et træk hun og jeg deler, og ligheden startede vores venskab. Min far har brune øjne, så det er ret sejt at have blå øjne som hende. Han siger, at hendes øjne er lige så blå som himlen er klar, så det er mine vel også, hvad det så end betyder.

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"Hold nu op med at snøvle og svar på mit spørgsmål, røvhul." Jeg gætter på, at morgengnavenhed er arvelig.

"Jeg kunne ikke sove," mumler jeg i mit krus.

"Hvad er det? Hvorfor ikke?"

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"Jeg er ked af at sige det, sønnike, men du føler dig sikkert rastløs. Du har aldrig været typen, der sidder stille ret længe. For fanden, du fik en brækket arm som treårig, fordi du ikke ville holde op med at klatre i det skide træ, da du var høj nok til at nå de nederste grene." Jeg griner, mens jeg tager en slurk af min nu halvkoldt kolde kaffe. "Og du ved, at jeg ikke er den, der beder om problemer, men der har været frygtelig stille her på det sidste." Han hvisker den sidste del, som om guderne ikke vil høre ham og skabe problemer, hvis han siger det stille nok. Desværre er det ikke sådan, livet fungerer for os.

"Jeg hører dig, Pops, og jeg er ked af at sige, at jeg er enig. Vi har indtil videre været heldige at være i et område, hvor vi ikke har meget konkurrence eller problemer. Men jeg føler, at vores heldige tid er ved at være knap." Det var ikke den samtale, jeg troede, at jeg skulle have så tidligt om morgenen. "Hvorfor samler vi ikke op på det her senere? Jeg skal åbne gården, og så har vi kirke i eftermiddag. Bagefter kan vi holde et møde med officererne og tale om tingene. Lyder det godt for dig?" Jeg spørger, mens jeg skubber mig op og op af stolen.

"Det er fint for mig, sønnike" er hans eneste svar, inden han ruller sig ind igen. Godmorgen til dig også, motherfucker.

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Jeg åbner døren og bliver næsten slået i ansigtet af en kæmpe knytnæve. "Hej, Hammer. Hvad så, mand?" Han ser også ud til at have haft en lang nat. "Er alt i orden? Du ser lidt hård ud."

Hammer sænker sin knytnæve og stikker hænderne ned i forlommerne. "Jeg har det fint. Jeg har bare nogle ting i hovedet."

"Ja, selvfølgelig. Hvorfor var du ved at banke på min dør?" Jeg tager min kaffe fra kommoden, slår låsen på min dør op, mens jeg går ud, og trækker den lukket bag mig. Jeg rasler med håndtaget et par gange for at dobbelttjekke, og så går vi ud ad gangen. At gå og snakke er det, der gælder her nogle gange.

"aJeg dvaitlHlge b.aFrev Sligjef tsj^e.kkeB, Xom AviQ TsTt)adviTg h&aAvde^ kiHrkéeY i XeRftcerJmiMdjdÉaJg?" Sspør'geqr Dhlabnf._

"Selvfølgelig har vi det. Hvorfor spørger du? Det er den samme dag og det samme tidspunkt hver uge. Er du sikker på, at du har det godt, mand?" Hvad sker der i dag? Der må være noget i vandet, hvis vi begge har en dårlig morgen.

"Ja. Jeg skal bare lige have styr på mit hoved. Jeg har nok brug for mere kaffe. Jeg skal nok klare mig inden kirken." Da vi er kommet ned i hovedrummet og ud af hoveddørene, hopper han op på sin Harley og kører af sted. Heldige skiderik.

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